


The Moaning Detective

by Imjohnlocked87



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Sherlock Holmes, Caught, Dildos, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Don't copy to another site, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Fantasizing, Gangbang, Group Sex, Light Bondage, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Secret Relationship, Sex Toys, Shameless Smut, Teasing, Threesome - M/M/M, Top John Watson, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:07:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21814177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imjohnlocked87/pseuds/Imjohnlocked87
Summary: Theoretically, Sherlock Holmes is asexual and John Watson is not gay.Theoretically, because when accidentallly the Yards listen to what is happening at Baker Street, they found the practical truth is totally different.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/Greg Lestrade/John Watson, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 36
Kudos: 189





	1. Punishment

Both officers looked at each other after hearing the moan.

In fact, they shouldn’t be surprised to hear someone moaning at Baker Street since Doctor Watson’s fame of being fairly active sexually was well known in NSY.

So, no, it wasn’t unusual to hear a moan in Baker Street.

What was truly shocking was that the moaning came undoubtedly from Sherlock Holmes’ mouth.

And not any kind of moan, but one that stated the detective was plunged into a cloud of sexual pleasure so deep that bordered the unbearable.

There was no doubt. The asexual detective was wanking. There was no other explanation because, who would have sex with the freak?

Another moan reached the officers’ ears, and both suppressed a wicked giggle. It wasn’t necessary since the detective couldn’t hear them. They were in a van on the other side of Baker Street. They just finished to intercept some suspects’ communications and, when driving in front of the consulting detective’s flat, their equipment caught a signal that, judging from what they were hearing, transmitted everything that happened in the flat.

“John,” the whispered groan of the doctor’s name surprised both men again. The detective was wanking while having a fantasy with his flatmate. A flatmate, on the other hand, whose story of sexual life surely wouldn’t include an asexual freak, moreover being not gay.

“John,” the moan sounded more desperate this time. Sherlock should be close to coming. One of the officers look at the red button between them and back to the other. That button allowed to transmit directly the sound of what was being heard in the van to Lestrade’s department.

As far as they know, Lestrade wasn’t at the office at that moment, so why not have some fun at the detective’s expense?

On the other hand, being caught in that situation would be really humiliating for the freak. He wouldn’t insult and belittle the Yards in future crime scenes anymore.

So, when his partner nodded, the officer pressed the button.

Lestrade was in his office, giving his team a briefing about the current case. Around him were Anderson and five more officers that where helping him to solve it. He wasn’t planning to arrive at the office so soon, but as Donovan called him last night saying she wouldn’t be able to go to work due to a bad cold, he changed his mind. A briefing with the team would give the case a boost.

He was giving some details about the victim when a beep announced an incoming call from an outdoor unit.

They all heard giggles and then a voice asking if they could guess what was happening at Baker Street right now.

Lestrade and the others looked at the ceiling, from where the officer’s voice came, waiting. Anything was to be expected at Baker Street, especially with the detective always performing strange experiments.

But it wasn’t an experiment.

The room was filled with pants, gasps, and moans coming from the mouth of someone desperate for release.

They looked at each other, shocked. It couldn’t be... 

Lestrade was about to pick up the phone to lecture the transmitters when he froze.

“John… John” whined Sherlock’s baritone tone.

They exchanged shocked looks and smiles, realizing what was happening. Soon they were laughing at each sound, louder than the previous one. The detective must be home alone since he was almost screaming with pleasure.

Lestrade thought about what John would say if he knew he was the main character in Sherlock’s sexual fantasies. Because it had to be a fantasy. John had made it very clear he was not gay, what was widely attested by the female Yarders with whom he had sex regularly, mostly since his fame as an incredible fucker and about how very well-endowed he was spread along NSY.

Sherlock and sexual fantasies. The two ideas were difficult to match in Lestrade’s head.

Then, they listened to some words they never expected coming out from Sherlock Holmes’ mouth.

“John, please, please … fuck me!

They all laughed hard, but then, a sound made them almost fall off their chairs.

John chuckled.

John Watson was chuckling.

While Sherlock Holmes was moaning.

And then an obscene pop, indubitably caused by John’s mouth leaving Sherlock’s cock, made the detective groan and whine in protest.

“Yes, love?” he asked, by all means enjoying Sherlock’s frustration.

“I…” amazingly, the detective was struggling for words.

“Tell me, Sherlock.”

“I’m… I cannot… Fuck me, John.” the detective seemed to be squirming over the sheets.

“Fuck you? Interesting proposal…” teased the doctor.

“John!” this time, a warning filled Sherlock’s voice, “I swear I’ll kill you if you…”

“Oh, I’d like to see how you’d do it” whispered John in a playful tone “Maybe I won’t fuck you, but tease you for hours, carrying you to the verge of the orgasm once, and again and again and then stopping, never letting you come.”

The detective gasped and cursed.

“Or I could make you come so many times that I’d shut your brain down.”

Moaned…

“To finally fuck you in the mattress, giving you the ride of your life, fucking you so hard that you would be walking funny for a week.”

“Nnnnnngggggggggg, John!!!!

They all could envision Sherlock’s back arching, a shiver running his spine at John’s teasing. 

John chucked again.

“I like your brain being so sensitive to words as your body is to the touch. I bet I could make you come only by telling you what punishment I have in mind for you.”

“Punishment?” panted Sherlock clearly lost.

The click of opening a bottle of lube filled the room.

“Punishment, Sherlock,” purred John. “Or maybe you thought I didn’t notice how you were flirting with that rookie?”

“I…aaahh, I wasn’t flirting…”.

“Sure? Maybe you need two fingers to confess the truth…”

Sherlock chuckled between moans.

“So…? Ready to confess?”

“You are scaring me, John,” the tone was playful.

“Maybe you need…”

John should have hit Sherlock’s prostate because the detective moaned so loud that Lestrade was afraid it could be heard out of his office. The DI knew he had to cut the eavesdropping, that they were illegally invading John and Sherlock’s privacy, but hearing them making love had something hypnotic, addictive, not only for him but for everyone in the room. Lestrade could feel his cock hardening, and, looking at the other men, the sexual game had the same effect on them.

“I only was pretending…nnnnnnnng, John, if you keep doing that…”

“Oh no, no way, don’t you dare to come before I’m fucking you.”

“You are not helping to prevent it from happening …ohhhhh.”

“You are the king of self-control, aren’t you? Show it”.

“Bastard….”

“So, where were we? Oh, yes… you were…pretending?”

John must have three fingers inside Sherlock because the man’s gasps and moans were now more frantic and desperate.

“Yes…”

“I don’t buy it. Pretending? It was too real for being only pretending. Lestrade almost had to pick his jaw up from the floor watching you treating one of the rookies as a human being….Ready?”

A moan escaped from both their mouths at the same time.

“Oh, God, you are so tight, Sherlock, oh fuck. Holly shit. Glorious…”

“Wait, hold on,” urged Sherlock, gasping, trying to catch his breath between his clenched teeth.

“Did I hurt you?” John sounded concerned. Sherlock must have shaken his head.

“Relax, love, breathe, just breathe, yes, like this…” John’s tone was caring and affectionate, none of the previous playful teasing on it “I won’t move until you tell me I can, just relax and enjoy. I know I’m big…”

Sherlock emitted a noise like a chocked laugh, a hiccup, and a moan, altogether.

“I should have been cleverer and not choosing a king-sized as my first boyfriend,” he panted.

“Your first boyfriend?” squeaked the doctor.

“Ahhh, don’t bite, John!”

“Don’t tease.”

“I didn’t know you were jealous as hell.”

“Well, you know now. So no teasing, no filtring…”

“I told you I was just pretending…”

“Maybe you were. But the rookie was about to tear your clothes off and fuck you right there.

“But it’s you who is fucking me now. Move…” purred Sherlock.

Both moaned, and a slow knock of the headboard against the wall started.

“John, I need to touch you…”

“Nope”

“Please, untie me… I really need to feel you…”

“Nope. Punishment, remember?”

The knock against the wall speeded up faster, as Sherlock’s moans got louder, accompanied by John’s pleasure grunts.

Lestrade felt his cock growing quickly inside his trousers. The image of Sherlock tied up while was relentlessly fucked hard and fast by John, being totally at his mercy, was more that he could stand. He had to resort to all his willpower for not unzip his trousers and start masturbating right there.

“John, please, touch me. Yes, oh, God, Oh, God, oh, I’m going to…” Nnnnnngggggggno…. John, noooogggggggg not the nipples” Jjjjjjohhhhhhhhhnnnnnnnnnn”

Sherlock remained silent for an instant, undoubtedly enjoying one of the best orgasms of his life.

“Breath, love,” John panted, still thrusting hard, “oh, shit, shit, don’t do that.”

John came hard, shouting Sherlock’s name, as the detective moaned, expelling all the air from his lungs.

The sound of the two men panting hard was all that they could hear for a while.

“John, if your goal was discouraging me for flirting with the rookies, this wasn’t a good choice of method,” Sherlock gasped, mockingly.

John chuckled.

“I knew you were pretending. Does it bother you?” John’s tone was a bit anxious now.

“You waited for me to be ready when I told you I needed some time to get our relationship to a… physical level. Now you are asking me for some time before everyone knows we are together. It doesn’t bother me at all. I know you care about what people think, and I respect it.

“Thanks, Sherlock.” 

“What for? It’s kind of funny being your secret”.

The doctor chuckled.

“John…”

“Hmmmm?”

“My arms are numb.”

“Oh, sorry, love,” they could hear John’s hands rubbing Sherlock’s arms.

“You are not going to untie me, aren’t you?”

“Of course not. That was only the first _punishment_ you are going to receive today.”

“You know you’ll have to untie me some time.”

“Hmmmm”

“And that I’ll take revenge for this…”

“You know, you said dangerous, and I’m here.”

Both men chuckled. Then, their breathing slowed down, till they doze off.


	2. Greg's fantasy

Greg couldn't tell how he achieved to leave the NSY building and get home. Once they shut off the communication with the van, he muttered some excuses about Donovan passing on her cold to him and ran to his car, his jacket hanging folded in his arm in front of him to hide the most impressive erection the DI ever had before.

He jumped on his car, shifting in his seat to rearrange his erection into a more comfortable position. During the trip home, he had to adjust his trousers a couple of times and then forced himself to grip the wheel till his knuckles went white, to control the urge of freeing his cock and stroke himself in every red traffic light.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, he arrived home, locked the door, and rushed to the bathroom to prepare a bath. When the water's temperature was perfect, he poured the bath oil inside, and soon the smell of sandalwood, cinnamon, and Brazilian orange filled the bathroom.

He stripped and crawled into the bathtub, groaning at the contact with the warm water. A deep moan filled the place when he finally, finally!, let his hand caress over the shaft of his cock, stroking it slowly up and down, the oily water allowing his hand to rub smoothly, teasing the tip with his palm. Soon, he increased the pace and panted, clenching his eyes while biting his lower lip, arching his back and bucking his hips in an attempt to fuck his fist, until he came with an animalistic groan, splashing water out of the tub while his body wriggled and tensed, his other hand slipping over the tiles looking for someplace to hold to.

Although the orgasm had been so intense, he was still hard, which hadn't happened to him for a long time. Of course, since the divorce, he masturbated regularly, but only as a mere relief, a quick wank in the morning shower before going to work without further ado.

This time, nevertheless, it would be different.

He opened his legs as much as he could in the tube, placed a towel behind his neck, and started stroking himself again, slow and softly, his hand barely caressing his cock, sending teasing sensation to his brain, his lips parted, his tongue licking his lower lip.

Then he closed his eyes and entered in Sherlock's bedroom at Baker Street.

The detective was lying on his bed, naked, blindfolded, his arms tied up to the bedposts with black silk ropes that delightfully contrasted with his pale skin. Knowing the detective's skills to free himself while being tied or handcuffed, John had deployed his best in tying complicated knots to prevent the detective from unleashing himself.

Knelt on the bed at his side, John muttered soft words in the detective's ears who, a bit nervous, stirred his limbs, tightening the ropes.

Greg admired the pale and slim but athletic body. Since the day they met, Sherlock exerted a strange attraction on him, but, given the detective's rugged nature, the DI never allowed himself to explore it. Now, the vision of that beautiful perfect body made his cock twitch and stiffen. His eyes traveled from the beautiful Cupid's bow of his mouth through his long neck, rested toward Sherlock's pectorals, with his pinkish nipples, and went down to his firm and flat abdomen, rested on his tempting cock and finished running down the long detective's legs until his feet.

The DI turned to look at John, now sat on the bed. Seeing him naked, Greg wondered why he hid that muscular body beneath those horrible jumpers. His stomach, chest, and back were well built, his tanned skin contrasted with Sherlock's paleness in a perfect and sensual match, and his only semi-hard long and thick cock seemed intimidating to Greg.

The doctor invited Lestrade to approach them with a gesture. The DI quickly stripped himself and sat on the bed on the opposite side to John. Sherlock's body tensed a bit, feeling his proximity.

The doctor bent and licked Sherlock's neck, move his tongue on the tendon, and Greg mirrored him, licking the soft and hot skin, his nose filled with the detective's aroma. Sherlock jumped a bit and then moaned softly at the contact of both tongues that moved from his neck towards his collarbones.

John's tongue moved down and slowly circled Sherlock's right nipple, without touching it, and Greg imitated him. Sherlock moaned harder this time, pulled the ropes, threw his head back, and arched his body. Greg looked in fascination with how Sherlock's cock got harder only with the anticipation of the touch.

John pressed his lips against the nipple, and Sherlock squeaked, quivering under his lips, and when Greg rubbed two fingers on his left nipple, Sherlock moaned obscenely, wriggling his body to try to avoid the contact.

"Ohhhhhhhh, nngggnooo, yessssss, I can't, oh god……I can't." moaned the detective, lost in the sensations.

"I don't think you have any choice," chuckled John, gently nibbling the nipple as Greg pinched the other one, with his index and thumb, both enjoying Sherlock's desperate writhing, his aroused mewling, his needy groans.

Greg moved down and traced one finger lightly from the tip to the base of Sherlock's cock as John kept pinching and licking the detective's nipples, delighted of the deep groan that came out from Sherlock's lips.

“unnnnnnnnnnnh” groaned Sherlock “… don’t…. stop…. aaaaah”.

"You heard him, Greg," teased John.

Both chuckled as Sherlock cursed. Greg licked the head of the detective's cock, John kissed Sherlock, pocked his tongue inside his lips and shoved a finger inside his mouth, finger the detective licked and sucked greedily. John took it out from the detective's mouth, and, running his hand through his body, finally pushed it inside Sherlock arse, thrusting slowly it inside out, still nibbling his nipples.

"Oh, yessssssssssssss mmmmmm, I can't, ohhhhhhhhh god, I'm gonna….fuck" moaned the detective, feeling his orgasm approaching.

They both stopped, and John grabbed the base of Sherlock's cock, preventing him from coming, as a chocked frustrated noise came out from the detective's mouth, who mumbled something about torturing both of them when they untie him.

John opened the bottle of lube and poured some of it on his fingers. Then he took Greg's hand and did the same. Both of them moved between Sherlock's legs, spread them wide apart, and bend them over the detective's chest.

Eagerly, Greg grabbed Sherlock's exposed arse, in the same way, he had always imagined himself grasping that fabulous arse at every crime scene whenever detective knelt next to a corpse or a trace, wearing those damned too tight trousers … he rubbed the arse cheeks, enjoying the soft skin, the muscle hardness, squeezed them, and finally, parted them, uncovering the puckered hole.

Slowly, John circled Sherlock's entrance with one finger, easing it until the detective relaxed at the touch. Then he started pushing in slightly, gently relaxing the muscle. The detective arched his back and moaned as Greg watched in fascination how John slowly thrust his finger in and out of the brunette, the doctor groaning at the sensation as his already hard cock grew impossibly harder.

"Oh, fuck, yessss," moaned Sherlock as John pushed another finger inside. Sherlock whimpered, trying at the same time to impale himself on John's fingers and to wriggle away from them, as John scissored his fingers, stretching, even more, the muscle.

"More," whispered Sherlock wantonly.

Hearing Sherlock, Greg couldn't help himself and pushed one of his fingers in Sherlock's entrance, stretching it a bit more, making the detective squeak in surprise and howl in pleasure at the same time, as his body jolted uncontrollably, his leaking cock seeking for friction, gasping instead of breathing. When John rubbed his prostate, he emitted ad low vibratory sound that reminded Greg of a purring cat. A lanky purring cat.

The doctor guided Greg's finger inside Sherlock to the spot, and when the DI caressed it, he was rewarded with the same sound, this time a bit more desperate.

Lestrade couldn't believe it.

He was making Sherlock Holmes purr like a kitty.

Both he and Greg tried to rub the detective's prostate at the same time, driving him mad with the unsteady rhythm.

"Ahhhh, God, fuck, stop playing like this, fuck, Oh, shit… great, please, mmmmmmmm fuck!"

"Please what, Sherlock?" asked the doctor, teasingly.

"I need you inside me, John," begged in a purr the detective.

Both John and Greg took their fingers out of Sherlock and the doctor, after coating his cock with lube, rubbed the tip in the entrance, throwing his head back a bit and moaning in anticipation, teasing both himself at the detective at the same time. Greg moved near the headboard, his cock a few millimeters of Sherlock's mouth, so close that he could feel his warm breath on the tip as the detective groaned at the feeling of John's teasing cock.

The DI felt about to come at that very moment. He breathed deeply, trying to regain his self-control. He was wondering how to ask Sherlock to open his mouth when the detective opened it and closed his lips around the head.

"Oh, Gooood, this is the best day of my life…" moaned the DI.

And it truly was. He had fantasized about those lips around his cock, that perfect Cupid's bow sucking it. In his imagination, Sherlock sucked and licked his cock slowly, taking his time, enjoying it, except when the detective was a total pain in the ass in crime's scene. At those moments, Greg envisioned himself putting Sherlock on his knees, grabbing his head and angrily fucking his mouth.

John chuckled, grasped Sherlock's hips, and caressed the hipbones with his thumbs for a while. Then pushed the tip of his cock inside Sherlock's arse and slowly nudged forward, moaning and grunting.

"Oh, Fuck, you feel amazing...so tight...."

The detective moaned, the vibration reververating over the head of Greg's cock, making the DI curse and hold his breath again, and the bastard started _sucking_.

Greg squeaked, and Sherlock laughed around his cock, at the same moment that John started rocking in and out, obliging the detective to open his mouth to moan out loud, bucking his hips as he shivered.

“Ohhhhhhh, fuck mmmmmmmmmmm, Oh, God, yesssssssss, fuck!”

Greg moaned at the noises the detective made. Sherlock licked his cock all over the shaft, flicking his tongue on the frenulum, teasing him to finally close his lips around him again, easing the shaft further inside his mouth. Greg threw his head back, his tights trembled, and his hips bucked, making his cock going deeper inside Sherlock's mouth, the warmth of his mouth and his reddish lips due to the friction getting him mad.

John worked his way inside Sherlock with a slow pace, little by little, his cock rock hard watching Greg's cock disappear inside Sherlock's mouth, to reappear again, covered with saliva, each time a bit deeper inside Sherlock's mouth, as Greg cursed and moaned, almost babbling.

Lestrade put his hands on Sherlock curls, (God, how many times he wished to do that), and tugged at the detective's hair, making him deep throating his cock and groaning louder at the same time.

Sherlock's groans seemed to wake up John. The doctor took one of Sherlock's legs and rested it on his good shoulder, so he could go deeper inside the detective with each thrust. He increased his pace, imposing a devilish rhythm, mercilessly hitting the detective's prostate with every lunge of his cock, and was rewarded with the high intensity that Sherlock's muffled, frantic moans and cries reached even with Greg's cock inside his mouth.

Greg soon matched John's pace, pushing inside Sherlock's mouth at the same time John pulled outside, so the detective always had a cock inside him. On more than one occasion, the sleuth tried to move his mouth away from Greg's cock to moan and cry freely in absolute ecstasy, but Greg didn't allow him to do it. Sherlock was giving him the best mind blowing-fucking great blow job of his life, and he didn't want to miss a second of it.

Greg himself was making noises he didn't know he could produce, his groans higher-pitched and louder when Sherlock took him even deeper, his hips jerking uncontrollably, his hands firmly gripped at Sherlock's hair.

He was aware of Sherlock's talented mouth and tongue to insult, retort and deduce, but never thought it was so gifted for sucking a cock. He was totally lost in a cloud of pleasure bliss, feeling his cock wrapped in the warmness of Sherlock's mouth, the softness of his swollen red lips as he fucked him unrelentingly, the teasing of Sherlock's tongue when he wriggled it around his gland or shaft.

But what got him completely mad was the feeling of the detective's throat in his glans every time he got as deep as the detective could manage, all mixed with the vibrations transmitted by Sherlock's moans, whines, and groans of pleasure, increased when John rolled his hips or changed his pace, making him contorting with lust and suck him even deeper. Greg cried in delight with the low vibrations that run across his shaft until his balls, panting and melting in Sherlock's mouth, his own orgasm building quicker than he wished.

Because Greg would wish to keep fucking that wonderful mouth for hours, for days, endlessly feeling the warmness, the softness, the teasing, and the vibrations, but no matter how much he tried to hold back his orgasm, the over pleasure soon won the battle against his efforts of holding himself.

"Oh, fuck!" was the only he managed to say, and he came with a guttural groan while Sherlock sucked the orgasm from him, making Greg come ever harder in the detective's mouth as he swallowed as much as he could.

When Greg finished twitching, the detective eased himself of Lestrade's cock. The DI drop over the bed, his legs not able to support him. Panting and dizzy, Greg turned to look at John, amazed at the self-control the former soldier showed, at how long he could fuck Sherlock. John's face contorted with pleasure, his lips slightly opened as he panted and gasped, grunting in delight, and Greg could only imagine how tight, silky and warm Sherlock's arse must feel around John's cock.

The doctor was gripping Sherlock's hips roughly, surely leaving bruises on the pale skin, so he could totally impale himself in Sherlock as he thrust hard and deep inside him, as Sherlock demanded between wails and sobs.

"Ahhhhhhhhhh" moaned Sherlock, finally able to do it freely "Jooohn, yesss, please, I need…. Ngggggg oh my God, touch me," the detective bubbled incongruently, straining the ropes, trying desperately to free his hands, trashing his head from side to side.

Greg was stunned about how beautiful Sherlock was that way, his lips red and swollen after sucking his cock, his hair disheveled and glued to his forefront with sweat, the poor man completely wrecked, all his usual coldness and self-control lost as he was subjected to the most delicious of tortures by John's cock.

The doctor also bogged down in a cloud of sexual pleasure bliss, not only for the fucking but for having Sherlock's at his mercy, for being able to melt the detective into the pleasure, to dominate him, to make him squirm, and beg, and lose his mind, to turn the genius into a bubbling and wanton creature unable to think or speak coherently.

And Greg also wanted to achieve it, so he took Sherlock's cock in his hand and stroked the shaft up and down in a torturing slow pace, his thumb teasing the tip as the detective groaned and chocked at the same time, while John howled with sexual delight because Sherlock should have clenched his muscles around John's cock.

"Ohhhhhhhhhh, God, Greg, faster, please, faster, faster. I'm close, I'm so close," begged the detective, trying to buck his hips into the DI's fist, but John firm grip on them didn't allow him to do it.

Lestrade chuckled.

"So, you are now able to remember my name? This is going to last for hours until you come, mate".

"Nogggggggggggghhhhhh" protested Sherlock, squirming as much as he could as John laughed, crossing a complicit gaze with Lestrade who, as softly as he can, pinched one of Sherlock's nipples with his free hand, making the detective squeak, curse and howl.

John also slowed down his thrusting pace, pulling out his cock almost entirely to bury it again sloooooowly in Sherlock's arse as he cupped the detective balls with one hand, caressing them, as with the other pinned the sleuth on the mattress.

Sherlock was about losing his mind, submitted to the intense but at the same time slow stimulation, that kept him on the verge of the orgasm but didn't allow him to come.

"Ohhhhhhhhh, you bastards, I can't, fucking shit, nggggggggggg you are killing me, faster, fuck, oh, god, faster, deeper" moaned Sherlock, bumbling something about skinning John and Greg alive.

They both giggled, and kept up with the torturing pace for a while, until John couldn't hold back any longer, and started fucking Sherlock with long, forceful thrusts, pistoning his hips harder and deeper inside the detective arse. Greg also speeded up the pace of his strokes and bent from time to time to lick the tip of Sherlock's cock, without forgetting about torturing his nipples.

The detective was bucking and jerking madly, pleading them to stop, begging them to don't stop, to never end, crying for mercy, sobbing for release as John's thrusting became more and more erratic, his grunts and groans almost reaching Sherlock's level.

"Come, love," panted John "Come for me. We want to see you come".

And Sherlock body tensed so much that Greg could see all his muscles drawn on his skin, only being able to emit a strangled chocked sound, like a hiccupping breath, his head thrown back, his mouth wide open in a silent cry of excruciating pleasure, his eyes shut, as John growled hard, only being able to thrust twice before he came hard inside Sherlock, leaning on the detective's body, still as tense as a violin cord.

"Breath, Sherlock" grunted John between moans, filling the endless orgasm run over his whole body "Breath, love."

Finally, the detective was able to breathe, only to moan and gasp as he surfed the waves of pleasure that overloaded his body and mind, his body starting to relax.

"Greg, nogggggggg!" he suddenly cried, as the DI, smiling wickedly, started licking and nibbling Sherlock's right nipple, making the oversensitive detective curse with words the DI had never heard even from the mouths of the most slumming criminals. This reaction, instead of discouraging Lestrade, only induced him to play with both nipples at the same time, pinching and rubbing them, hardening them as Sherlock strained the ropes so hard that they heard the headboard cracking.

"Greg, God, ngggggg, John, John stop him, I'll swear…" but, amazingly, Sherlock's cock started to get hard again.

"This is for driving me mad all these years," Greg teased as John, a bit recovered from his powerful orgasm, stood and went to the nightstand table, opened a drawer, and rummaged from something inside it.

"No, John, no" there was a mix of a bit panic and arousal in Sherlock's voice, his head turned toward John, tracking his movements, pulling again from the ropes with all his strength, all his muscles tensed, for both Greg and John enjoyment "Please, no, no, no, John."

Greg looked at John, curious, and smirked when he saw what the doctor pulled out of the drawer, and then at Sherlock, wondering how the detective was capable of knowing it, blindfolded.

The doctor took the bottle of lube and carefully smeared the vibrator. Greg followed the doctor's hands movements, soft and precise, and surprised himself wishing those hands were on his cock now and not in the sex toy.

"I hate you both, I hate you, I hate you Joonnnnnnnnnnn, fuck!"

John inserted the vibrator in Sherlock's arse in one quick movement, and changed the angle, looking for the now oversensitive spot. Greg smiled and got back to play with Sherlock's nipples, as John caressed his tights with his free hand, slowly moving it to the balls, looking for the perineum, softly rubbing it, until the detective was whimpering and moaning, his tights trembling. His hips bucked madly when John raised the vibrator speed to the next level for a while, and then to the next level and started stroking Sherlock, getting from him the filthiest noises and moans Greg ever heard.

The DI jumped when he felt John's other hand closing around his cock, but soon he lost himself in the pleasure of being stroked by his calloused hand. His cock was already leaking, and John stroked him fast and hard, rubbing his thumb over the head of Greg's cock to catch the drops of precome and sliding his hand back to the base of the shaft, stroking him up and down.

Greg put his hand on John's cock, and the doctor raised his hips to allow the DI to grab it and pumped up and down at the same pace the doctor was stroking both Greg and Sherlock at the same time.

Sherlock stopped moaning a bit ago. Instead, he was emitting a long, continuous howl that was increasing in intensity as the detective approached his orgasm, encouraging Greg to pinch and lick Sherlock's nipples as he speeded up the strokes on John's cock and seemed to have the same effect on the doctor, who also speeded up stroking both Greg and Sherlock cocks while the dildo kept on vibrating unremittingly against the detective's prostate, the three of them feeling their orgasm building fast inside them.

Sherlock came first, an agonizing chock leaving his mouth as he tensed his body, covering his abdomen and chest with come. A couple of minutes later, John and Greg came almost at the same time, mixing his come with Sherlock's over his body.

"John" sobbed the detective, his voice a husky whisper "take it out, for heaven's sake, take it out, take it...oh fuuuuuuck!

The doctor giggled as Sherlock came for the third time, cursing and groaning due to oversensitivity. He had forgotten the dildo was still vibrating inside Sherlock's arse, and he left it there until Sherlock orgasmic spasms, moans, cries and curses ceased.

Tiredly, he pulled it out and threw it somewhere in the room. The detective sighed and grunted in weariness as Greg and John collapsed on the bed.

Greg, exhausted and blissful, managed to get out from the tube and fell on the bed, floating on a totally perfect and incredible afterglow.


	3. I love to make you come

The next morning John woke up slowly. He yawned and sighed contently, enjoying the quietness of the morning, relaxed. John also should say he felt satiated, but since the day he started having sex with the only consulting detective in the world, satiety became a concept impossible to apply to him. He always wanted more. And that was something that John Three Continents Watson hadn’t experienced before with any of his previous partners, women or men.

Maybe it was because they had finally been brave enough to accept and confess their love after years of orbiting around each other like the most idiotic binary star system on the universe.

Or perhaps it was because of one of the things that secretly most pleasured John was, knowing he was the only able to make Sherlock moan, scream, pant, curse, beg and come while melting him into a cloud of absolute pleasure, a part of him totally unknown for the rest of the world, only unveiled for the doctor.

Though it also could be that Sherlock was the most beautiful creature he ever met. It didn’t matter to him. Whatever the reason was, John felt as if he never had sex before, or, better said, that he never had the fantastic sex he had with Sherlock because, with none of his previous partners, sex had ever felt so fucking great.

Sherlock plunged into sex with John in the same passionate way he solved a case or played the violin, with all his mind, body and heart, inexperienced but willing to be taught and to learn, to please and be pleased. And he acted with John in bed as in the rest of his life, studying, testing, experimenting and collecting data about John’s body, inch by inch, methodically treasuring all the information in his Mental Palace, discovering erogenous points in John’s body that he didn’t even know himself, what he liked, what he disliked, deducing what he was ashamed to ask for, making the doctor reach unknown peaks of pleasure while they were having sex together, always wanting for more, as if they’d like to make up for all the time they hadn’t been together.

But they decided not to look back. No regrets, not we should have…, it was what it was, and maybe, somehow, it should have been that way. They decided to enjoy the treasure of the present, of the shared time, of the love, the comfort, the cuddles, the kisses, the terrific sex, the lousy telly, the experiment, the cases, the work…, the happiness of having gotten right where they were supposed to be since the day they meet each other.

John looked at Sherlock or, at least, the visible part of him, the mope of disheveled black curls that rested on the pillow, the rest of him hidden below the duvet.

John pulled the duvet down a little, so he could look at Sherlock’s face. He enjoyed contemplating Sherlock while he was sleeping, his face relaxed, his lips softly muttering words in his sleep, or slightly parted while breathing.

Unlike him, Sherlock, due to his random sleep patterns, fall asleep soundly, which allowed John to play with the detective without waking him. When John woke up before Sherlock, he liked caressing the sleuth’s lips with his index finger and poke it into his mouth. That usually made John groan imagining Sherlock was sucking his cock until he became so aroused that it wasn’t uncommon for the detective to wake up with the doctor straddled on his chest, while John’s cock gently fucked his mouth. The detective didn’t mind being woken up like that; quite the contrary, he sucked John’s cock eagerly till the doctor came in his mouth.

John also liked sneaking below the sheets and sucking Sherlock’s cock while he was sleeping, making him moan, mutter, twisting and gasping in his sleep until a powerful orgasm awoke him.

He felt his cock throbbed with the memory. He _loved_ making Sherlock come.

“Don’t even dream of touching me today,” mumbled Sherlock from beneath the duvet.

John chucked. Yesterday’s _punishment_ had been extenuating for both of them. They fucked during hours, resting, napping or eating between orgasms, and Sherlock’s arse was a bit sore after dealing four times with John’s cock, mainly the last one, which was especially rough, with John fiercely fucking Sherlock, possessed by the string of “ _harder,” “deeper”_ demands, interspersed with the most obscene moans and curses the detective had ever uttered.

But it wasn’t a finger precisely what he was going to use with Sherlock.

“I’ll go to buy some food. Eat something. And take a shower. You are all sticky”.

“Your fault.”

Whistling, John went to the kitchen and put the kettle to make tea and made four toast, two for Sherlock. After having breakfast and took a shower, he left the flat.

When he came back, the detective was in the kitchen, sat at the table, embedded in one of his experiments, chewing a piece of toast. His hair was still wet from the shower, and from time to time, he dried with his hand a drop of water that fell on his forehead. John bit his lower lip, his cock twitching a bit, watching a drop sliding over the detective’s neck to disappear under his dressing gown.

John left the Tesco bags on the counter and approached Sherlock. He embraced him, leaning his head on the detective’s back. Sherlock turned a bit and kissed John’s head, sighing contently, without taking his eyes apart from the transparent content of an essay tube, which was slowly taking on a bluish color.

A new drop ran over his neck, and John licked it with the tip of his tongue.

“John, I’m trying to finish an experiment.”

“Keep on with it. I won’t bother you,” replied the doctor, licking another drop, following its path across Sherlock’s neck. The detective snorted but didn’t move an inch.

John smiled. Sherlock never submitted easily. And John loved it. He loved to dissolve his resistance to conquer Sherlock’s body inch by inch, making the desire to grow inside the detective’s body.

He moved his hands over Sherlock’s shoulders and sides and wrapped his arms around his waist, looking for the knot of the dressing gown belt and slowly untied it.

“What are you doing?” Sherlock tried to sound nonchalant but failed miserably. His all-powerful brain wasn’t able to understand why, being so dominant, he found so extremely arousing to surrender himself to John, to let him take the control. Sherlock, who always hated being touched, who had always avoided other human being’s proximity as much as he could, felt how his body turned on at the same time his brain turned off with John’s touch.

“Your hair is wet from the shower. I don’t want you to get a cold” John opened the dressing gown and, little by little, slipped it over the detective’s shoulders, gently licking and nibbling at the skin that was being exposed, first of the right shoulder, then traveling with his mouth across the back towards the left shoulder. He sensed Sherlock swallow hard and wriggle, as his lips parted open.

“Don’t stop for me,” purred John in Sherlock’s ear, running his hands over Sherlock’s neck and under his jaw, teasing the sensitive spots. The detective poured a bit more of one transparent liquid in the assay tube, and the bluish content turned into reddish.

John’s hands moved to Sherlock’s chest, gently rubbing the palms of his hands over the nipples in a circular motion. Sherlock moaned and dropped the essay tube. The liquid spilled on the table, and the detective grabbed the edge of the table, biting his lower lip and threw his head back slightly.

“I hope it’s nothing dangerous.”

“Not as much as you.”

“Me?” asked John innocently, his hands rubbing Sherlock’s sides up and down until they rested on Sherlock’s pants waistband. The doctor pressed his body against Sherlock, so the detective could feel his already hard cock.

“You” moaned Sherlock.

John grabbed the detective by his sides, inviting him to turn around. John caressed Sherlock’s inner tights, as the detective moaned again, the doctor hands traveling from his knees to the point where the legs met the hips, avoiding to touch the detective’s cock that throbbed inside his pants, aching for attention.

Sherlock grabbed John by the neck and kissed him, his tongue fiercely invading John’s mouth. His hands quickly unbuttoned the doctor’s shirt, peeling it from the doctor, so by a moment, his arms were caught in the sleeves, which allowed Sherlock to unbutton and unzip his trousers, his hands greedily seeking for the doctor’s cock.

John whined a bit and struggled to free himself, both devouring each other’s mouth until they had to break the kiss for breathing. They looked at each other, panting, their eyes dark with desire. John finally freed his arms from the shirt, took Sherlock’s hands, and push them back until they rested on the edge of the table, forcing the detective to lean back a bit for balance.

John’s hands rested again on the waistband of Sherlock’s pants and pressed a bit on the detective arse, instructing him to raise his hips and removed his pants, the detective’s leaking and swollen cock pointing towards him.

The doctor knelt slowly, his blue eyes fixed in Sherlock’s blue-green, for a while each floating in the other’s eyes, oblivious to the rest of the world, drinking each other’s love, lust and passion, lost in each other, found in each other, the broken pieces finally put together into a perfect puzzle until, with no warning, John took Sherlock’s cock in his mouth, swallowing almost the whole of it easily, his nose buried into Sherlock’s pubic hair as the detective growled, grabbed the doctor’s hair, thrust up and came instantly, arching his back, trying to bury his cock in John’s throat as deep as he could, as John moaned, almost chocking with the detective’s cock, sucking and swallowing his powerful orgasm, firmly gripping Sherlock’s hips to prevent him from falling from the chair as the detective, almost screaming, shivered and moaned in shocked pleasure.

“Oh, fucking holy shit!” finally managed to pant Sherlock, as the doctor took the detective’s cock out of his mouth. He tried to pull up John, but the doctor remained firmly on the ground.

“Get on the table,” ordered in captain’s voice, a bit ragged by Sherlock’s cock in his throat.

Sherlock looked at him and then at the table.

“Get on the table now. On your hands and knees,” repeated John, his tone more commanding now.

Sherlock jumped on the table as John ordered, panting hard, his eyes, closed, getting more and more aroused by John’s tone, his body still trembling a bit for his orgasm.

“Spread your legs.”

Sherlock spread his legs a bit and John smacked him on his arse.

“Ouch, John, don’t do that!”

“Stop complaining like a little girl. You like it,” teased John, smacking Sherlock’s arse again. The detective shook his head, but his cock started to get hard again. 

“Wider, spread your legs wider,” ordered John, smacking him again, and Sherlock moaned.

Sherlock complied and opened his legs as wide as he could, lowering his upper body and letting his head rest on his forearms, obscenely offering his arse to John.

He was waiting for another smack when he felt John’s hands gently kneading his cheeks, massaging them and squeezing them together. The doctor moaned a little in anticipation. Sherlock’s arse was magnificent, and only playing with it like that was getting him hard. Then he started softly kissing Sherlock’s ass all around, nice and slow.

“Jo…john? What are you doing?” asked the detective, panting a bit.

“Deduce it,” answered the doctor between kisses, making Sherlock shiver.

“John, you are not going to… aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh”

John had inserted his tongue a bit inside the crack, moving his tongue slowly up and down until he reached the triangle of skin just above Sherlock’s butt. It was a really sensitive spot for the detective, which turned him on almost instantly. John smiled when he heard him moan louder.

“I’m going to make you feel so good……..,” whispered the doctor without parting his mouth from Sherlock’s skin. His lips kissed one cheek softly and sensually, and then his tongue licked sideways across the crack and to start kissing the other cheek.

Then he gently spread Sherlock’s cheeks apart to expose his hole and kissed around it delicately and around the outer rim. Sherlock squirmed and started moaning needy, a succession of little moans that John knew, meant that the detective was begging him to continue, but he was too ashamed or too turned on to vocalize it, a kind of moaning that drove John mad. 

He started licking the outer rim, flicking his tongue lightly, darting over the skin of Sherlock’s ass crack as sticking it light with his tip.

“John….. ohhhhhhh, John….”

“Yes, babe?”

“Babe?” moaned Sherlock, clearly offended with the pet name.

“Yeah, babe,” teased the doctor, speaking on Sherlock’s hole, so he could see it contracting while feeling the warmth of his breath “What do you want?”

Sherlock wriggled a bit his ass in front of John’s face.

“Your… your tongue”.

“I’m already using my tongue…:”

“Fuck, John!”

“Be patient, babe”…

“John, ahhhhhh fuck!”

The doctor was now licking the detective’s perineum, slowly travelling towards his balls, as Sherlock’s cock, totally hard again, started leaking precum. His tongue moved back to his ass, and John breathed lightly on his hole’s skin, exhaling warm breath and then blowing a bit, making Sherlock’s body quiver and groan.

Then John placed his tongue on the asshole very lightly and wiggle it up and down or side to side very quickly. The detective growled, his tights trembling, as the doctor swirled his tongue around the hole in a circle, a small circle at first, making it slightly bigger in a spiral movement, until he stopped and did it in reverse, tracing the circle sometimes quick, sometimes killing slowly.

“Oh, my God, John, nnnnnnngggggg don’t stop, don’t stop, ohhhhhhh God…..”

After a few minutes, John placed his tongue on the hole and flicked it quickly upward, making Sherlock squirming hard. Sometimes John’s tongue drew slow rougher flicks, others quicker softer flicks. Sherlock, feeling his orgasm growing, moved one of his hands to stroke himself, but John slapped it, not letting him reach his aching cock.

“Hands on the table. Don’t dare to move them,” the captain ordered.

“But John, I need…”.

John moved his tongue away from Sherlock’s arse. The detective whined.

“Please, John, don’t stop.”

“Hands. On. The. Table”.

And Sherlock obeyed, wondering why he was unable to disobey John’s commanding tone. Because he knew it was about John. Any other who would try to manhandle him like that would already be smashed against the wall or the floor, at the very least with his arm twisted by the elbow, to discourage him from keeping on giving orders to Sherlock. But all of his rebel nature dissolved at John’s side, feeling his body, listening to his voice, a strange and unknown pleasure flooding inside him as he let himself go and comply with the doctor’s orders.

Sherlock muttered something between grunts.

“Excuse me?” mocked the doctor, his thumbs rubbing around the sleuth’s arsehole.

“I said stick your tongue in my ass and shut up,” answered the detective between his clenched teeth.

“Mmmmmmmmmmh, yes, like that…oh, yes….…hey! I’m not…….. bossy!” he protested, trying to move his arse apart from John’s mouth, but the doctor had him firmly grabbed, so he only could wiggle and writhe a bit. 

Jonh laughed openly because that was precisely the word he was drawing with his tongue around and over the detective’s arsehole. Then replied “yes, you are……” in the same way as Sherlock moaned, grunted and cursed, desperate to cum, his moans growing louder when John licked across his hole, his tongue flattened out wide, the detective tensing, even more, his tights, while a shiver ran down his spine.

“John,” Sherlock begged with a groan. “Oh, John, mmmmm, fuck me, fuck me.”

“Nope, your arse is sore.”

“I don’t mind. Fuck me gddddddddddddddddddd, fuck meeeeeeee”.

His tongue slid again over the detective’s perineum, making him whine and moan, trying to close his tights a bit, so he can lift a bit his lips, inviting the doctor to fuck him. From his position, Sherlock could see John’s cock, hard as a rock, aching for attention, but the git had an unbelievable control over himself. Balancing on only one hand, Sherlock sneaked his arm under him and caressed the tip of John’s cock, making the doctor moan and close his eyes.

“Hands on the table,” repeated John, quickly moving away, putting his cock out of Sherlock’s reach.

“Please, John, I need to come, I can’t come like this, I can’t” whined the detective.

“You’ll do, I promise.”

“John, please…”

“You are so fucking gorgeous when you beg…”

“Go…. to ahhhhhhhhhhhhh hell John, oh myyyyyyyyyyy”

John swirled his tongue in circles around the ring of muscle before pushing in slightly. Sherlock was panting and squirming in a way that turned him on in such a way that it was hard for him to keep from touching himself, but he wanted to maintain his concentration until the end. He had been dreaming about this for a long time and wanted it to be perfect for Sherlock to giving him pleasure and to make him come under his tongue.

John took his time, his tongue drawing around Sherlock’s entrance, again slowly circling to the centre of the ring, and then, he dipped his tongue inside.

“Ohhhhh, shit, shit shit” moaned Sherlock, sounding more desperate than John never heard him, and that only encourages John to keep on fucking Sherlock with his mouth, wriggling his tongue inside him, sealing his lips around his hole, as Sherlock moans got louder and louder, his lips parted, making such lewd noises that John felt his cock about to explode, feeling as he could come only listening to Sherlock’s sounds, so he managed to groan and growl as he kept his face buried in Sherlock arse.

The detective’s body trembled uncontrollably as John pumped his tongue inside him, thrusting in and out, as Sherlock gripped hard his hands to the table edge, feeling John’s hot saliva dripping down his crack and caressing his balls, driving him absolutely crazy with the need of come.

A long string of needy and whimpering moans filled the kitchen, accompanied by John’s growls and groan, both lost in their shared pleasure.

“Oh, god, I can’t. Oh, fuuuuuuuk” sobbed Sherlock, his vision whitened, and he jerked wildly as he came just from John’s skilled tongue. Sherlock rode out his orgasm as he came onto the table, while John kept on fucking him with his tongue, his breath coming out in short pants as he tries collecting himself, his head resting on his arms.

He tried to collapse on the table, but John didn’t allow him. Instead, the doctor’s tongue kept thrusting inside and out his hole, killing him with oversensitivity, as he felt his legs unable to support him. Sherlock’s mind got dizzy, he tried to find the words to ask John to stop, tried to gather the forces to move away from the torturing mouth, but he couldn’t. He was going to lose his mind.

“John” he sobbed “John, please, stop, stop it…………mmmmm, please nggggggggggggggg you are killing mmmmmme” he threw his head back, closing his eyes, the shiver that ran from his cock until his brain through his spine making him twisting violently.

Finally, John stopped fucking him with his tongue. Sherlock felt a strange mix of relief and emptiness, but his brain couldn’t process any of the feelings properly. He only could try to breathe, letting soft moans go out from his mouth as he exhaled, feeling as if the orgasm will never end.

“John, no, no, no wait, nnggggggggggggggg John!” he begged, sobbing, begging, but before he could realize what was happening, John had laid down on his back and sneaked beneath him, taking Sherlock’s cock in his mouth. The detective let out a howled sob, crazy with oversensitivity and exhaustion, his body reacting, quickly looking for his third orgasm, at the same time trying to escape from John’s killing mouth.

Sherlock felt as his brain was one of those old outboard engines, that no matter how hard you tried to choke it, they only cracked several times, but never got to start, so drowned his mind was in the orgasmic fogs. He turned back his head, looking back at John’s cock, red, swollen, and near to explode. Trembling, he raised one leg and, pivoting on one arm, freed himself for a second from the doctor’s lips and motioned to positioned himself, so his face was on John’s cock. Quickly John trapped the detective’s cock again and swallowed it.

The doctor growled when Sherlock’s tongue licked his balls and made a chocked grunt when he felt Sherlock’s mouth around his cock. They both got involved in a battle to make the other come first. Sherlock bobbed his head up and down, and licked the shaft from the root to the tip, circling the glans, obliging John to open his mouth to moan loudly. The detective felt the doctor’s balls tense and cried, trying to put as much as possible of the doctor’s cock in his mouth, sure to gain the battle, when John shoved a finger inside Sherlock’s arse and rubbed his prostate.

Sherlock made a sound between a growl in frustration mixed with a groan of pleasure and was forced to let go John’s cock to arch his back, as John crossed his legs on Sherlock’s back, forcing him to lie on his body as he kept on fucking the detective with now two fingers, still sucking the detective’s cock, enjoying the desperate sounds coming from Sherlock’s mouth, when the detective grabbed John’s cock and started stroking it hard and fast, his fist firmly gripped around it, his tongue moving on the head of his cock as if he was licking and ice cream.

Their bodies tensed and jerked at the same time, both growling as they came hard in the other’s mouth, John enjoying such an intense orgasm he thought it could rip him in two and Sherlock feeling his body going limp, the doctor’s cum spilling out of the corners of his mouth though he tried to swallow as much as he could, as John sucked the tip of Sherlock’s cock, drying him up to the last drop of cum.

Sherlock collapsed on John’s body, the two men gasping for air, Sherlock’s body shaking badly.

“Are…” John gulped for air “Are you okay?”

Sherlock shook his head, unable to speak. The doctor frowned and came out from under his body, lying next to him, embracing and kissing him. He jumped from the table, got a glass of water, and gave it to the sleuth, who drank it avidly.

“Better?”

“Run”

“What?”

“Run as fast and as far as you can, because when I get you…” Sherlock tried to sit down, but he had to lie down again, the room spinning fast around him.

John giggled.

“You are not so threatening after coming three times,” then he got serious and checked Sherlock’s pulse.

“John,” whined the detective, “I…, I think I need to eat something.”

John shouted a “YES!”, raised his arms in victory and ran around the table, like an athlete doing the lap of honour, weaving his hand, greeting an invisible crowd around him, throwing kisses to the air.

“God, I’m fucked,” growled Sherlock, throwing the doctor a murderous glance, but unable to hide a smirk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you a lot for your readings, subscriptions comments, feedback and encouragement!!!
> 
> You ALL are amazing, readers!!!


	4. How I'd wish to wipe that smile of superiority off his face (Anderson's fantasy)

Lestrade ran his hand through his greyish hair. Since his team listened John and Sherlock having sex at Baker Street, he tried to delay as much as possible inviting the detective to another crime scene, ashamed of looking both of them at the face, afraid of they could guess what happened and threatened about the detective's revenge and the doctor's anger.

But the main reason to avoid calling them was that he couldn't stop masturbating himself, reproducing his fantasy in his mind over and over again, his cock almost sore by the sudden increase in wanking habits. And, looking at the rest of the Yarders, he could assure they were in the same situation, though nobody dared to bring up the subject when they were together. 

Nevertheless, he couldn't delay it more. He had three victims of murder on the table, and they were, as almost always, clueless, so either he'd call the detective, or soon he'd have a fourth victim to add to the previous ones. So, swallowing, he texted Sherlock, secretly hoping that the detective would prefer to pursue other "hobbies." But half an hour later, Sherlock answered they would be at the crime scene in an hour.

So they were the six of them, trying to not look to each other, nervously waiting for Sherlock and John to arrive, acting as if they were in an elevator and not in an abandoned warehouse with a corpse hidden in a small cubicle.

"What the hell is going on?" asked Donovan, looking curiously at Lestrade, Anderson and the rest, who shrugged without answering, all of them blushing slightly

"I'm not thrilled about the freak coming, but I don't understand your attitude. Have you argued with him while I was at home?"

"No, not an argument," answered the DI distractedly, making some of them giggle a bit, others coughing to conceal the giggling.

"Men, no one understands them," sighed the sergeant.

The others tensed at the arrival of a cab at the door of the warehouse. Lestrade look at the two figures that got out of the vehicle, trying to see something different in them.

But they were the same as always. He looked at Sherlock, wrapped in his Belstaff, walking fast, proud and self-confidently, frowning in a gesture of concentration, without apparently paying attention to the man who walked beside him, striving to keep his pace.

Because John had the same almost absent-minded look as always, like wondering what was he doing there, his hands in his pockets, the kind and open gesture, everything as before as if he wasn't the _man who was fucking bloody Sherlock Holmes_.

Lestrade felt a little betrayed. Sherlock was expected to keep it a secret, but John was his companion for nights of pints, of confidences, of sharing what they didn't tell anyone, the things about themselves that they were afraid to show to others, and never, ever, did John mention being attracted to Sherlock, let alone started a relationship with him.

When they both finally arrived at the warehouse, there was an awkward silence. Lestrade felt his cock getting hard with the mental image of it in Sherlock's mouth, the others simulating to check the crime scene for evidence, and Donovan looking at all of them, gaped.

"So?" Sherlock was getting impatient. "Has Anderson infect you all with his stupidity?"

The forensic scowled, but didn't say anything. He looked at Donovan, but the sergeant was staring at Lestrade, still wondering what was going on.

Lestrade hawked and guided them into the small room where they had found the woman.

"Yes, yes. No!" he blushed when John and Sherlock exchanged a mocking look and turned to escape Sherlock's scrutiny "Women, thirty-five years, no signs of violence, her bag holds all her belongings, money, credit cards, everything."

Lestrade swallowed, trying to moisten his throat. Sherlock crouched beside the body and observed it with his magnifying glass, cr.awling around the corpse. The detective, to prevent his coat from dragging it on the ground, had set it aside, and all of them, John included, as Greg realized, had his eyes fixed on Sherlock's perfect plump arse, the doctor licking his lips without realizing it.

Everyone quickly looked away when the detective turned to look at them. 

"No signs of violence?" he mocked "Someone broke her neck, twisting it to rend vertebrae" He stood up, snapping his gloves off and moving out of the cubicle "Congratulations, Anderson, your incompetence has reached levels never before known by mankind."

The forensic looked at him. Oh, God, how he wished to wipe that smile of superiority off his face…

"Here's your chance to do it," said John as reading his mind. He glued his body to Sherlock's, wrapping his arms around his waist and licked the detective's long neck without taking his eyes off the forensic.

"John, what the hell…?" asked Sherlock, trying to free himself from the doctor's embrace.

"Come on, Sherlock," he rumbled in the detective's ear. "You were provoking all of us… you know all of them are dying to fuck you, and you are dying to be fuck by them, over and over and over again…, you enjoying their cocks, they playing with your body…".

John's hands ran up and down the detective's body under his coat, across his chest, his abdomen, his thighs... causing his nipples to harden under his shirt and his cock twitch under his trousers. 

"They all playing with your body," he repeated, softly pinching Sherlock's nipples through the fabric of his shirt. The detective shook his head but parted his lips, gasping for air, blushing and gulping, weakly trying to move away from John. 

"You have wanted this for ages," John mumbled sensually, his lips in Sherlock's ear, slowly taking the coat off the detective's body and giving it to Lestrade. "Always insulting them, humiliating them, so they got feed up and give you what you deserve…., all those cocks only for you, fucking you mercilessly until you beg them to stop, but they won't, because you are going to be fucked completely out of your mind, and you are going to love it because you are such a cockslut…"

Sherlock made a choked whine, unable to move as if John's words had cast a spell on him.

"John…I don't want… nohhhhhhh" Sherlock moaned as the doctor liked his ear and kept on nibbling and sucking his neck. His hands unbuttoned his shirt, exposing his chest. The doctor passed his arms under the detective armpits, rubbing them across his arms until his wrists and grabbed them, taking his jacket and his shirt off to finally move Sherlock's arms behind his back.

The other men stared at both of them, hesitantly. Even trapped by John, the detective still scared them. John walked backward, pulling the detective to a large, heavy table. Sherlock climbed on it and laid down on his back as John took out his shoes and socks and stripped him from his shoes trousers and pants, 

The detective's cheeks were blushed with anticipation, feeling all the eyes focused on him, feeling them hungry for him.

Lestrade moved near the table and poked his right hand's index and thumb inside Sherlock's mouth, who liked them enthusiastically. The DI repeated the movement with his other and, with his wet fingers rubbed slightly Sherlock's nipples, a kind of ghost touch that made the detective moan and close his eyes, panting harshly. His body tensed and jerked when Greg pinched both hardened nubs at the same time.

At the moment, he closed his eyes, Anderson and the rest of the men surrounded Sherlock, as Donovan remained where she was, enjoying the vision of the freak submitted by his colleagues.

John bent to kiss Sherlock, playing with his tongue, licking and sucking his neck. He signed the others to approach and touch, kiss, and lick the gorgeous man all over, from his head to his toes, always avoiding his cock. The detective moaned and sighed, lost in the sensation, squirming and trying to move away but not being able to escape from the restless hands, mouths and tongues, his cock fully hard, totally turned on, looking the rest of them palming their erections over their trousers.

"ohhhhhhhhhhh, god, yes, god, yessssssssssssssssssss, John mmmmmmmmm" Sherlock moaned loudly, "please, touch memmmm, somebody, plesssssssssssss."

Anderson grabbed Sherlock's cock and gave it a soft stroke. The detective whined and twisted, his mind advising him to move away from the forensic's hands, his body surrendering to the touch. The forensic smirked and moved next Sherlock's head, as John got near Sherlock's legs.

Anderson felt so powerful in front of the moaning detective that almost came instantly.

"You don't know how long I've dreamed about this, whit shutting your big mouth up with my cock… I'm going to fuck you so hard that you won't be able to talk in weeks," he said, unbuttoning and unzipping his trousers.

The detective moaned and grabbed Anderson's cock with one hand, stroking it as he licked the tip of it. Anderson grunted and grabbed Sherlock's hair, trying to push his cock inside the detective's mouth, but Sherlock remained in control of it. Lestrade, who had moved away a bit, next to Donovan, rolled his eyes. Only Sherlock Holmes could turn a blow job into a struggle of egos, his gaze fixed on Anderson's eyes.

John slowly moved his hands up towards Sherlock's inner tights, rubbing the tips of the fingers on them. The detective stifled a moan and shivered, his cock getting even harder as John caressed the join between the hips and the tights, grunting when the doctor softly grabbed and squeezed his balls, then released the pressure. John softly traced his fingers up and down his cock and around his balls, and the detective moaned loudly, making Anderson groan in pleasure with the vibration around his cock.

Two of the three officers took the detective's nipples into their mouths, sucking and teasing them, alternating their mouths and hands to play with them, making him groan and buck wildly as Anderson grabbed Sherlock's head and pushed his whole cock inside the sleuth's mouth.

Other officers got near Sherlock's feet and took one on his hand. The detective pulled hard on his leg to break free from him.

"No," he grunted around Anderson's cock, guessing the officer's intentions.

John smiled wickedly and tickled Sherlock's testicles with the tips of his fingers. The detective let out a laugh between moans, trying to squirm away at the tickling touch, scowling at John, who laughed and licked the sleuth's frenulum, his tongue flicking it up and down, from side-to-side, and in circles.

"mmmmmmmmmgnggggggggmmmmm" moaned Sherlock attempting to ease Anderson's cock from his mouth, but the forensic didn't allow him to do it. On the contrary, he started thrusting his cock as deep as he could in the detective's mouth, enjoying the caressing of Sherlock's deep moans around it and groaned in pleasure when felt the tip of it rubbing the detective's throat, his lips tight around his cock.

Anderson moaned hard when a deep laugh shook the detective's throat, closing it around his glans. The officer grabbed Sherlock's right foot again and was enthusiastically licking along the sole.

"nggggggggggggggggggg" the detective's complaining moan, mixed with giggles almost made Anderson come, as Sherlock kicked trying to free his foot, but the officer had a firm grip on it.

John held Sherlock's cock steady in one hand, and his tongue drew a slow circular motion around the top of it, driving Sherlock mad with the sensation, making him moan, buck and jerk, crying, giggling and grunting. The officers who were playing with his nipples pinned Sherlock's hands to the table so the detective only could surrender to all the stimulation.

Lestrade, who had remained watching the scene, threw himself on the floor and crawled under the table until he was in front of John's legs. On his knees, he unzipped the doctor's trousers, pulled them down, did the same with his pants, and released John's large throbbing cock, impressive even only half hard. Gluttonously, he took as much as he could inside his mouth. He choked when John, roaring in pleasure, thrust it inside the DI's mouth, so he moved away a bit. Greg closed his lips around the tip and sucked it, stroking the rest of the shaft up and down, him harder and harder.

The DI moaned when he felt his cock surrounded by wet, warm, and wanton lips. He was so concentrated in John's cock that he didn't realize Donovan, wearing only her panties and bra, crawled under him and started sucking and licking the tip of his cock. She bobbed her head up and down, making Greg moan, which made John grunt and moan, the doctor easing Sherlock's cock from his mouth and stroking it painfully slowly, as he tried not to come instantly watching Greg sucking his cock while being sucked by Donovan.

The sergeant muffled a surprised groan when she felt a couple of hands pulling down her panties as her tights were opened wide. The officer that was playing with Sherlock's feet had moved down and plunged his face in her pussy. Donovan arched her back as the officer's tongue circled her clit, sucking it inside his mouth and licking between her wet lips. The sergeant grinded her pussy against this face, and he sucked and licked faster, growling with excitement, stroking himself, excited with Sally's moans and pants, that reverberated in Greg and John, as the doctor, about to come, swallowed Sherlock's cock.

The detective came instantly, wildly jerking his hips, tensing his body, moans, and grunts stifled by Anderson's cock, who kept torturing the detective's throat, enjoying all the sounds that came from it.

A minute later, he also came with an explosive orgasm, thrilled by the idea of coming inside that pedantic prick's mouth, of filling it with his cum, making the detective swallow it until Anderson's orgasmic spasms ceased, finally taking it out of his mouth.

"Ohhhhhhhh, fuck, stop, god, so gooooood, fuck, too mmmmmmmmmmmmmmuch" moaned Sherlock, his body oversensitive with the orgasm, watching how the officers pulled their trousers down, their hard cocks surrounding him. Soon one of them was rubbing his lips and entered into his mouth when the detective moaned again. Sherlock grabbed the prick of the other officer that kept on sucking and pinching his nipples and stroked him slowly, making him moan.

Mixed with the rest of the officers, Donovan, Greg and John's moans and groans, the DI, lost in the bliss of the pleasure he was bringing to John, lost in the bliss of finally having the doctor's large cock in his mouth, sucked it faster and faster as he sensed the doctor's orgasm approach, which made Sally increased the pace of his sucking, matching it with Greg, that was mimicked by the officer in her pussy.

John grabbed Greg's hair and fucked hard the DI's mouth, who moaned, gagged, and choked, feeling John's cock deep in his throat, lost in the sensation of being fucked by John's cock, of being used by him. Finally, with an animalistic groan, the doctor came on Greg's mouth, his copious cum oozing from the corners of Greg's lips as the DI tried to swallow as much as he could, sucking hard John's cock until the doctor grunted and took it out from his mouth, and leaned on the table, gasping for air, his cock still hard.

Greg, in turn, came in Donovan's mouth, as Sally sucked until the last drop of cum from him, she reached her climax, coming in the officer's face, who came hard stroking himself.

The chorus of groans and moans made Sherlock groan louder, greedily sucking the cock in his mouth, moaning around it as he kept on pumping the cock in his hand, The officer that was fucking Sherlock mouth thrust erratically and, throwing his head back, came inside the detective's mouth, while the one he was stroking also came over Sherlock chest and neck. The officer took his cock out of Sherlock's mouth and leaned with the other on the table, panting hard, giving the detective a break.

But it was short because John uncapped a bottle of lube and poured it into his fingers to softly rubbing Sherlock's hole, relaxing it. The detective bent his legs, feet firmly planted on the table, raising his pelvis to make it easier for John to play with his ass, John groaning hungrily with the vision of Sherlock covered with cum and surrounded by cocks.

"Oh, John, fuck, yesssssssssssssss" moaned Sherlock as the doctor rubbed the puckered hole softly, and groaned harder when the doctor plunged his finger into it and pumped in and out of Sherlock, his cock getting hard again, his moans increased when the two officers that covered him with cum started licking it from his nipples, lapping and licking them.

"nnnnnnnnggggggggg" the detective protested when Anderson started licking his balls, tongue lapping wet on them. Sherlock yelled, jerking, as his balls were sucked.

John increased the speed of his finger inside and outside Sherlock and added another, pushing slowly and gently, to quickly adding a third one, curving them to find the detectives prostate. Sherlock's extremely erotic moans increased in volume as Anderson gobbled his cock as deep as he could, bobbing his head slowly up and down.

"Ohhhhhh god, so gooood," his loud and filthy moans now echoing around the whole warehouse, grunting a bit when John took his fingers out.

"Fuck me, I need, fuck me……" moaned Sherlock as John stretched him wide, his hands pushing his thighs up and up until he was nearly bent in half.

John slowly pushed his cock into Sherlock. The detective cried out in pleasure, moving to shove himself harder onto the cock in his arse, but John grabbed him by the hips, preventing him from moving, as Lestrade walked near Sherlock's mouth and shoved his cock inside it, his eyes closed in pure bliss at the warm of the mouth, feeling Sherlock's tongue running over it, as he tried to hold his orgasm, wanted to enjoy the feeling forever.

Sucking Sherlock's cock, Anderson looked for Donovan, but she has disappeared from the room. The other officer was slowly stroking his cock, enjoying the magnificent fuck John was giving to Sherlock.

"Oh…god, you are so fucking hot, such a greedy slut" groaned John, finally bottoming out, as Sherlock groaned in pleasure. The rest of them observed mouth-dryly how John rolled his hips and almost took the whole of his cock out to shove it again. Sherlock shouted, cursed and moaned, panting and writhing, gasping air the best as he could with Lestrade's cock in his mouth, as his cock was being sucked and the other officers started again playing with his nipples.

"Please…god…I can't…fu mmmmm…oh" and Sherlock moaned frenzy when John started hitting his prostate with every push, as Lestrade fucked his mouth hard and deep, making Sherlock impaling himself in John's cock with every thrust, and John making Sherlock almost swallow Greg's balls with the force of his push, until the DI came hard in the detective's mouth, shivering, shouting and grunting, pulling hard from Sherlock's hair. The detective moaned even louder, jerking his hips madly, a new orgasm building inside him, his mouth free again to scream in pleasure, encouraging John to fuck him.

"Oh fuck _, mmmmmmmmmmmm…don't_ stop, John. Fuck me, harder John, fuck me ahhhhhhhhhhhh" until he came in Anderson's mouth while John fucked him through his orgasm. The doctor groaned in pleasure sensing Sherlock arse clenching around his cock while the detective came, his hands gripping the table with all his strength, whining and moaning as John hit his oversensitized prostate, the doctor almost howling, approaching to his own orgasm, to finally coming hard inside Sherlock, twisting his body while the detective clenched and unclenched his hole, squeezing John's cock inside him.

"Ahhhh, shit, fuck, Sherlock, don't uggggghhhhhhh" he groaned and collapsed himself on the detective's body, who bent his neck to kiss John's head, both of them panting hard, like the rest of the officers, Greg included, moved a bit apart, his eyes wide. John took his cock out of Sherlock's arse, turned around and smiled. 

The detective, exhausted, looked at him, his gaze followed John's and gasped, trying to move away from the table.

Donovan was standing near the table, looking at the detective with a wicked smile. She was wearing a strap-on black dildo, almost the size of John's cock, and undoubtedly enjoyed the blushing that covered Sherlock's cheeks, the lust mixed with a hint of fear in his eyes as the others licked his lips because the vision was extremely erotic.

"Did you really think I was going to miss the chance to fuck you as much as you have screwed me all these years?" she asked, approaching Sherlock with wide steps, feeling powerful.

"No, wait," gasped the detective, "I can't."

"I'm sure you can come again, or twice more, or three times..." menaced Donovan as she gestured the officers to hold Sherlock's legs in place.

"Calm down, love," said John, who didn't want to miss watching Donovan fucking him, "You are going to love it."

He moved next to Sally and, looking at Sherlock's eyes, covered the dildo with a generous amount of lube, sensually rubbing his hands along it. Donovan muttered something in his ear, John raised his eyebrows and smirked, and turned to insert a couple of lube covered fingers inside Sherlock's ass.

Two officers started licking the detective's cock, roaming up and down, around and under and over the shaft, making Sherlock gasp and moan, jolting his hips, shocked by the feel of two mouths in his cock, without taking his eyes from Sally's menacing dildo.

Finally, John nodded, and Sally moved ahead and nudged a bit at Sherlock's hole. But the detective didn't want to make it easy for her and clenched his hole tight against the intrusion. Sally didn't move for a bit, patiently waiting, as Greg bent to lick one of Sherlock's nipples, and other office mimicked them, making Sherlock release his muscle.

Sally pushed the dildo inside him another inch, as John started stroking himself, looking at Donovan fucking the detective's ass. Sherlock rolled his eyes, stubbornly clenching his teeth to hold his moans as she sank another inch, and another, until, with a hard thrust, she buried the whole dildo inside Sherlock's ass.

The detective's eyes opened wide and cursed and moaned, but soon remained still again, looking at Sally, defiant, biting his lips to prevent him from moaning.

She smiled wider.

"I'm not going to make you moan, I'm going to make you scream," she said and pressed a button of one of the dildo straps, and the rumour of a buzz filled the air.

"ohmmmmmmy gooooooodddddddddddddd" Sherlock arched his body when the dildo started vibrating against his prostate "fucckkkk, stopmmmmmmm gooddddddddd" he jerked wildly, as the others licked and sucked his cock and nipples. The detective actually screamed in pleasure agony, as Donovan slowly fucked him, keeping the dildo inside a bit to vibrate against his prostate before taking it out and shoving it inside again, as Sherlock breathed out a long, high-pitched moan, bucking his hips a little harder, Donovan again rubbing his prostate with the vibrating dildo.

"Oh, gddddddddd I'm………fuck I'm," and Sherlock came again for the third time, as the others kept on licking and pinching his nipples. John came hard on Sherlock's cock. The two officers that stopped for a bit sucking Sherlock's cock threw themselves to lick John's cum from it, sucking him hard and fast, making the detective growl and beg, writhing madly, as Donovan thrusts grew deeper and harder inside Sherlock, the officers and Lestrade stroke themselves, hypnotized by the vision of the sergeant fucking the detective.

"Pleasddddddddd" begged the detective, his entire body trembling "mmmmmmmmmmstoppppfuckfuckfuckfuck."

"A bit sensitive, are we?" mocked Donovan "then this is going to feel like hell."

Sherlock screamed again, tears filling his eyes, his body covered with a mix of cum and sweat, moving his head from side to side, muttering incoherent words, as Donovan stilled in her place, without moving the dildo out from Sherlock. The rest of men realized that the dildo had a rotating tip that, mixed with the vibration and the officers working his cock, nipples and the rest of his body, was sending the detective to heaven and hell as the same time, as he only could produce a quick succession of panted "ah, ah, ah, ah, ah," each in a higher volume than the previous one, his body unable to process all the sensations at the same time.

Anderson moved behind Donovan and, taking out her bra, reached her breasts, squeezed them together, pinching her nipples, hardening them as the sergeant moaned loudly, closing her eyes, taking the dildo out of Sherlock ass for a bit.

The detective moaned and sobbed with relief, but then Anderson guided Donovan's dildo inside Sherlock again. The forensic, still playing with Sally's breast, pulsed another button on the strap, and another little protuberance of the dildo started vibrating on his clit, making Sally moan louder.

Anderson glued his body to hers and grabbed Sally's hips. He started rocking his hips, so the sergeant had to do same, and they both fucked Sherlock, the sergeant and the detective moaning louder and louder as Donovan threw her head back, the detective's body arched up from the table, his cock twitching as he came again, spurting only some drops of cum, as his face contorted in a mix of pleasure and pain, sobbing and moaning, cursing and sobbing

"Plessssssssss" he sobbed "I cntt, plessssssss, noggggggggggggggg" he begged, sobbing, as Donovan and Anderson kept on fucked him harder.

"She won't stop fucking you until she comes again," chuckled Anderson.

John, afraid it was too much, made the others stop teasing Sherlock and he, Lestrade and the rest of the officers stroked themselves looking at the dildo going inside and out of Sherlock's arse at breakneck speed, the dildo nearly leaving Sherlock's passage each time and then stabbing back in, rotating and vibrating against his prostate, as the detective moaned and whined, sobbed and begged, a wrecked mess of sweat, cum, lust, pleasure, and exhaustion, arching in pleasure, shivering and crying with oversensitivity, as Donovan plunged in and out of the detective's ass, until her tights started trembling and, with a deep growl, she came, impaling the detective with the vibrating rotating dildo. The detective's body shook as the rest came hard also, covering Sherlock's body with cum.

"Pllsssssssssssss gdddddddddddddddddddd" screamed a sobbing Sherlock as his cock throbbed and he came for the last time.

Sally moved backward, taking the dildo out of Sherlock and dropped herself on the floor, gasping for air, looking at Sherlock as the cat that ate the cream and gave five to the forensic.

Anderson approached Sherlock, looking for his phone to take a photo of the cum covered detective, but John pushed him away and held the detective in his arms, whispering affectionate words as he brushed his sweaty hair off his forehead, kissing him gently, his eyes, his nose, and his lips until the detective calmed down by holding him with all his strength.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, the kudos, the comments and the support.
> 
> You, readers, are all the best


	5. Accidentally, of course

"Anderson, Anderson," called Lestrade, "Philip!"

"What the hell are you doing?" asked Sally

Sherlock was snapping his fingers in front of his face.

Snapping his fingers? But... wait, Sherlock was wrecked on the table, wasn't he? ...

Anderson blinked, realizing he lost himself in his own fantasy… Damnit, it had been so great to fuck that pedantic know-it-all mouth…

But the detective showed no intention of allowing Anderson to fuck his mouth. On the contrary, he stood in front of him, rolling his eyes as he snapped his fingers. Fully dressed, like John, Lestrade, Sally, and the other officers.

"It seems it's not me who is turned on by corpses, Donovan" mocked the detective, and Anderson blushed, feeling his hard cock pressing against his trousers, all the gazes landing on his groin.

He blinked again, swallowing. And then cracked a smile. 

"No, we all know you are turned on by John," retorted Anderson, unable to contain himself.

The others froze.

Lestrade looked at him in horror, as John's face turned white, while Sherlock's smirk faded, giving way for a second a gesture of anger until he managed to regain his composure and his usual inexpressive mask. He looked briefly at John, who seemed about to faint.

"Anderson, your ability to be wrong breaks even the law of probability," sneered Sherlock.

"And you aren't so smart as you think. We know John is fucking you, though I cannot understand yet how he chose you," he forensic retorted. 

"Anderson!" yelled Lestrade.

"Don't talk nonsense," barked Sherlock.

Anderson produced his phone, unlocked it, and opened an audio file.

Sherlock's desperate voice filled the warehouse. 

_"I'm… I cannot… Fuck me, John."_

_"Fuck you? Interesting proposal…"_

"Did you record it?" asked Lestrade furious.

Anderson nodded. 

"How you, how you… get… that?" bubbled John. The doctor seemed about to cry.

"We weren't fucking."

All of them turned to look at Sherlock.

"What do you mean? We listened to you. We _all_ heard you," replied Anderson, proudly waving the phone in his hand.

Sherlock swallowed.

"It was audio editing. I… I was…wanking, "affirmed Sherlock, "and I did it to… well, creating the mood".

All, John included, looked at him, gaped.

"But John was talking to you," replied Lestrade.

Sherlock shook his head.

"It wasn't difficult to record him when he was with the girls he brought home and create… that".

"You truly are a freak," said Donovan, disgusted.

"Enough, Sherlock," ordered John and moved into the middle of everyone, his eyes shining with determination. 

"We weren't fucking. We were making love," he stated proudly.

"But... but you are not gay," gasped Donovan. She heard enough talk about John's cock and great performing in bed in the women's locker room to be sure of that. 

"No, I'm not. I'm bi. And stupid. Because only a fool would hide he is in love with this crazy, romantic genius, capable of making a fool of himself and letting him being insulted for defending me". 

"John" protested the detective. 

They gasped as John grabbed Sherlock's neck and kissed him deeply, the detective's face almost turning vermilion while kissing the doctor back.

"So," John continued when they break the kiss, looking at each other tenderly. "From now on, anyone, man or woman, who calls him a freak or similar, will pick his teeth up off the floor with his or her broken fingers. Got it?"

Sherlock couldn't hold his laughter, looking at him as if John were the eighth (for him really the first) wonder of the world. 

"You are such a thug…"

"And you love it." 

"It makes me horny." 

Lestrade coughed, unable to believe what just came out from the detective's mouth. He was truly happy for them, and he would bombard them later with questions, but he had a case to solve. Clearly, Sherlock wouldn't be available in the next few days. 

"You both, behave yourselves," he ordered, "Sherlock, the woman? The serial killer?"

"No serial killer," answered Sherlock, still looking at John. "I'll have to look at the other bodies, but this one has nothing to do with them. Arrest her brother; he's the culprit. They got into an argument over his father's inheritance, and he, probably drowning in debt, lost his temper".

"And how do you know it?" 

"We'll let you figure that out, Anderson," said John.

"Me? Why?"

"Because I have to… punish Sherlock," he said, lowering his tone, looking hungrily at the detective.

"Me? Why?"

"Do you really need a reason?" purred John, pushing the detective out of the warehouse and in a cab. 

Lestrade smiled.

He could go back to his office, lock the door, pull down the blinds and listen to how John punished Sherlock.

Accidentally, of course. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, I thought it was better to split the last chapter in two, so this fifth is basically an epilogue a bit modified from the previous version.
> 
> Again, I hope you had a great time reading it. 
> 
> Feedback is always welcome.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Johnlock fic.  
> Hope you enjoy readong it!


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